Heroes Fan Fiction ❯ Fudge ❯ Fudge ( Chapter 1 )

Spoilers: Up to "Parasite", with spoilers from ".07%"

 

Fudge

It had probably been a bad idea.

His body was still recovering, of course, and despite his mother's protests, he had to get out of his apartment, and Claire was quick to jump with him. She was still upset that his mother wanted to send her to Canada to hide her, and Peter was upset that his mother had not mentioned the young, adorable blonde he'd saved in Texas had been his niece.

`Damn it all to hell,' he said, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. His stomach lurched at the naughty thoughts he once had when he saved her - still had of her even when he'd come home and found her there, waiting dutifully for his heroic return. He only hoped the feelings would subside, but it didn't help when Claire looked at him like that - like he was the most important being in the world.

And after the scuffle with Sylar and almost dying, he didn't feel like the best person in the world, much less a hero.

As soon as he was able to get out of his bed, he had to leave, just for a walk or a drive, or go somewhere and get one of those hot fudge sundaes from a local confectionary shop. He needed to get away from all the family coddling, and Claire was just as stir crazy as he was. He needed peace of mind; she needed food.

“You know, your mother is great and all…” Claire spoke, breaking the silence in the car. She began digging in her bag looking for the fudge Peter bought her. She struggled slightly with the wrapper, and tore harshly at it when her patience for chocolate wore thin. She broke off a piece of fudge and popped it into her mouth. Peter tried not to watch her, focusing his attention strictly on the road. It was hard though — very hard not to watch her. Claire then added, “But she needs to stop treating me like an invalid. I'm indestructible for God's sake.”

Peter was sure Claire didn't need a lecture. Hell, he was used to the lectures himself. Nathan was particularly good at them, so he could imagine that his mother who'd been hiding her granddaughter all this time had been more than a little anxious to protect her at all costs.

“Yes, she's like that. So is Nathan. You'll get used to it,” he replied simply. She looked at him with a pout, and he gave her a lazy grin. “Well… maybe in about 26 years living with them you'll get used to it.”

“Haha,” Claire said, and she tore off another piece of the fudge. Peter eyed her tongue wrapping around the piece, licking it before her lips closed around it. He swallowed uncomfortably. She looked far too sexy eating a simple piece of chocolate, niece or no niece.

And for having such thoughts, he ultimately felt like a pervert, and he hated himself for it. If only he could stop glancing at her when she ate that fudge.

Claire caught his uncomfortable gaze, and she looked down to the fudge in her hand. She made a squeak and then tore off another piece. She looked at him apologetically. “Oh, I'm sorry! Did you want some?”

“Uh…yes, but I'm driving, I can't…” he stuttered. He couldn't believe he was acting like a nervous fool in front of her! Claire - a teenager! And his niece no less, and he had to keep reminding himself of that tidbit.

“Open up then,” she said, readying the piece for his mouth. His face paled.

`She is definitely not going there, is she?' Peter thought miserably. Claire radiated innocence, so he sure he was the only letch at the wheel.

Why was he having these thoughts of her? Was this some sick, twisted grudge the universe had against him? He was tired, and just a little bit angry, confused, maybe horny - and his senses were all jumbled. This whole ordeal with the fated explosion, meeting Sylar, Simone's death, and then almost dying was definitely affecting him. Truly, what sane man would have such thoughts about his niece?

`A very hot and sexy fudge-eating niece,' he mused, and he quickly cursed himself inwardly for thinking it.

“Gees, what's with you? Are you still wigging out about the almost-dying thing?” He glanced quickly over at her while still trying to keep his eyes on the road. He caught glance of her sparkly green pools and her playful bright smile. She said in a slight husky tone, “Come on, the chocolate will make you feel better.”

His mouth gaped at her flirtatiousness, which was just enough of an opportunity to shove the chocolate into his mouth. He felt her finger push past his lips and scrape the chocolate against his teeth. He gagged a little, and then began chewing the soft chocolate as she pulled away.

He nodded, coughing lightly. “Good.”

“See, now don't you feel better?” Claire sparkled at him innocently. Peter gave her a sour look. Yep, this was definitely dangerous territory, and he'd be a fool to investigate it further.

And truthfully, it wasn't just the chocolate that made him feel better. No, no, he rather delighted in the feel of her finger against his lips, inside his hot mouth, and suddenly his other brain had many ideas on just what to do with his mouth and her finger, and his mouth and any other part of her body she wanted to stick there willingly.

He groaned audibly, and Claire looked at him curiously with concern. “Peter, are you seriously okay?”

“Yeah,” he coughed out uncomfortably. “It's nothing.” He glanced at her with a serious look and tried to reassure her with his crooked smile. In a soft voice he said, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Then, Claire flushed. She stared at him for a while, and Peter became increasingly uncomfortable. His eyes continued to focus ahead, and he dared not look at her in the corner of his eye.

Claire broke her stare from him and tore off another piece of chocolate from the fudge block. She said nothing to him, and she, too, seemed to be having some conflicting thoughts.

“Peter,” she asked in a low voice, “do you want some more?”

The air was thick and hot, and he could sense the shakiness in her voice. “Maybe…” he said, and she began tearing off another piece.

Before she could pop it into his mouth again, Peter spoke quickly, “I'm sorry I never knew we were related when I rescued you. I wish I would have known more… maybe I could have saved you some heartache that you had with your adoptive family.”

Claire laughed a little and rolled her eyes. “Peter, you can't save me from everything.”

He turned to her again, meeting her eyes for a moment and then focusing back on the road again. He replied, “I can try.”

“Here, Peter, open up,” she said, lifting the piece of fudge to his mouth. Her voice was soft, inviting. Slowly, she inched her fingers toward him, and he opened his mouth, anxiously awaiting her delicate touch. She slid the melting chocolate past his lips, and he closed his mouth over her finger. She didn't seem surprised or scared as he licked the remnants of the chocolate completely off her finger, swirling his tongue languidly around her digit.

He sucked up the remaining taste as she pulled back her finger, watching him intently as he swallowed the fudge.

“More?” she asked in a shaky whisper.

He paused for a moment, his conscience screaming at him to stop. He was so wrong, and this was wrong, and everything about this world was wrong. He glanced to her again, and Claire was watching him expectantly, her breathing slightly heavier, and her mouth open automatically as she desired more. He almost laughed to himself. She was just as wrong as he was - he could feel it.

Peter had made a living about always being right, so why did he feel this urge to suddenly be wrong and damn the rest of the world for judging him? His heart ached, not for the consequences of doing wrong but for the allure of being so.

Flashes of Claire's chocolate covered fingers roaming his chest and her mouth tasting him tickled his brain, and his body pulsed to obtain such a prize.

Throwing caution to the moral winds, his eyes stared into hers, and he replied a little too darkly, “More.”

And it happened again and again - the delicate touches, the rich, creamy taste of chocolate that coated her soft skin, and the deep green eyes that watched his every lick and lap.

When the fudge was almost gone, Claire stopped. She traced a finger over the sides of Peter's mouth as he drove, his tongue following her movements as she wiped up the residual chocolate. She spoke to him a breathy moan, “Peter, you need to find somewhere… somewhere we can go now…”

“Yeah…” was all he could muster. There were no speeches about how they shouldn't be doing this. There was no doubt or uncertainty. There were no looks of shame or guilt for their thoughts, or what they were about to do.

Peter glanced to Claire, and he caught sight of her thighs pressing together, tight and close. She threw her head back slightly, letting out a small, heated moan. She was so ready, and so was he. The speed of the car picked up, and Claire closed her eyes.

`God,' Peter thought, and he knew just the place to take her.

When they stopped, Peter told Claire to get out of the car. “Get in the back,” he said, and he followed her. He added, “Bring the fudge.”

As soon as Claire had leaned back, he was on top of her, and his lips fell harshly over hers. She kissed him back just as quickly and fiercely, and she grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to her body. He ran his fingers through her hair, and then delicately moved them downward, snaking his hands under her shirt and then dipping under her bra to cup her soft breasts.

Claire moaned lightly in Peter's mouth, and he rubbed his fingers over her nipples, hardening to his touch. Meekly, Claire dove her hands below, tugging at his pants and fumbling with the zipper.

Peter broke the kiss to look into her eyes for a moment, and he could see she was ready. He helped her remove his pants, and they squirmed out of their clothes in the constricted space of the car. Even though it had a high ceiling, Claire felt an ache in her neck as she leaned against the side window. But the pain soon dulled as Peter's hands reached below and touched the wetness between her thighs. She mewled.

“Claire…” he whispered against her flesh, and he trailed kisses down her neck as his fingers continued to touch her clit, playing with the folds and rubbing against the burgeoning moisture.

“Peter, please,” she begged, as he thrust one finger inside her - first slow and building up speed.

He leaned up and took her mouth into his again, kissing her hard and full with desire. He whispered against her lips, “I think I want some fudge.”

She stopped, nodding once, as she knew what he meant. She smirked seductively at him. She pulled out the remaining block of fudge, and it began to melt in her heated hands. She broke off a small piece and smeared it around his mouth - leaning in and licking it off his face. He groaned against her, unable to hold himself at bay any longer.

“Claire… Don't stop….”

“Please, Peter, I want you inside… now,” she said desperately with hints of dominance. He needed no more permission than that, and then he slammed inside her entrance, moving fast as she cried.

The fudge was melting on her hands, and with the power of his thrusts, she pushed her hands on his chest, smearing the chocolate all over him.

“Whoops, look what I did?” Claire chirped playfully. Still inside her, Peter slowed his motion as Claire bent down and licked up the chocolate on his chest.

Sweat and sweetness filled her palate, and Peter continued to move inside her, groaning as her tongue lightly danced around his skin.

“God, Claire… this is…” Peter choked out, feeling heat and tightness building inside him ready to burst.

“Yeah,” Claire cried, and as he rammed into her, she let go of his chest gripping his shoulders. Her breasts bounced with his movements, and the remaining chocolate on his chest smeared onto her own.

“I've wanted this… so long,” Claire said to him, wrapping her hand behind his head and sifting her finger through his dark, messy hair.

“Ung…” Peter said, and his thrusts became faster - wild, and Claire could feel him reaching his peak. She screamed; her own legs shuddering as he filled her, fast and firm.

Peter softly caressed her head, bringing the hair out of her eyes and then leaning his face against her forehead. He sighed softly, “Let go, Claire.” With one quick, monstrous push she screamed, her nerves exhausted and heated with vibrating energy.

He grunted next to her, and she could fill him emptying within her, painting a part of himself on her pulsing core.

She collapsed forward, and Peter leaned back, taking her into his arms inside the backseat of the car. He caressed her skin lightly, noticing the film of sweat on her skin and watching her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath. He placed a kiss on her temple, and she sighed in contentment.

“Damn…” Claire said, laughing nervously. “That probably shouldn't have happened.”

“No,” Peter said mindfully. It was too late to get into this conversation; the sin was already seconds behind them. And if it was a sin, it had never felt so wonderful—so fulfilling. Peter sighed against her, but he was smiling. “It shouldn't have.”

“I feel I should apologize, but I don't really want to.”

Peter was silent at first. He contemplated Claire's rationale, and then he moved her slightly to take her mouth into his again. His lips were soft, adoring, and when they broke away, he looked at Claire with loving eyes and a hopeful smile.

“You don't have to, and neither should I. I won't ever feel sorry.”

It really couldn't have been explained. What they shared that day was both bad and good. There was an area between it that was slightly gray, and that's where their desires would dwell.

Claire snuggled against him tightly, not wanting the moment to end. She knew they had to go back, and Peter seemed restless again.

“We should probably go,” she said, tracing a finger down his chest and memorizing the view his nude body. She wondered if there'd be a time she could touch him and look at him like this again.

“Hn,” Peter agreed, and slowly he got up. They sat up with their naked shoulders rubbing against each other. She leaned back against the seat. Claire darted her eyes around the car, fascinated that it was roomy enough for such an endeavor.

“This car is pretty big… you'd never know from the outside,” Claire said, diverting the conversation. But was she really?

Peter smiled at her lazily and said, “Yeah, it's not bad.”

“Great for segues,” Claire mentioned bluntly.

Peter turned to her and then cocked an eyebrow. “Great for getting fudge, you mean?”

Claire smiled at him, a sultry shine aglow in her eyes. “That's one thing.”

Peter didn't respond right away. He grinned like a naughty cat, and then looked ahead, his eyes shining with ideas. His body warmed again to rising thoughts.

While meeting her gaze, his dark eyes began drowning hers, and he answered finally, “Anytime, Claire.”

Her face lit up, and she knew that whatever this thing was between them, it was far from over, and that they would keep doing this together in the future, side-stepping the world that was pulling them down - telling them they needed to be heroes. To keep from breaking, they needed times like these - a simple car ride to get away, and a mesh of touch by their own desires, forbidden by the moral world.

With that thought, Peter had smiled along with Claire. He realized that taking her out for fudge today hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

END